teach |tēCH|verb ( past and past participle taught |tôt| ) [ with obj. and infinitive or clause ] show or explain to (someone) how to do something: she taught him to read | he taught me how to ride a bike.• [ with obj. ] give information about or instruction in (a subject or skill): he came one day each week to teach painting | [ with two objs. ] : she teaches me French.• [ no obj. ] give such instruction professionally: she teaches at the local high school.• [ with obj. ] encourage someone to accept (something) as a fact or principle: the philosophy teaches self-control.• cause (someone) to learn or understand something by example or experience: she’d been taught that it paid to be passive | my upbringing taught me never to be disrespectful to elders.
The problem with facts and with proof is that without direct experience, proof can never be concrete. Proof is subjective. It is also a silly word when you look at it.
My practice as both a student and an instructor has taught me that we can never objectively know the truth of what another being feels. As far as I know, there is no way to replicate another beings complete experience of sight, sound, smell, touch, hearing, thoughts exactly.
The yoga practice has taught me that even my own experiences can never be replicated. I can move through the same motions everyday, I can be still in the same position every single day for the same amount of time and will never feel exactly the same as I have before.
Therefore, we cannot tell each other how to feel. We cannot truthfully tell each other that we know exactly how they feel. But there is an understanding and a kindness that happens when we acknowledge this lack of “truth” or inability to replicate. By acknowledging this we can learn to let go and accept things as they are, knowing that our only truth is the experience that happens before we have time to create words describe it. In this truth we are all the same.